Welcome to the Abbey’s Poetry Party #57!
I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your own poem. Scroll down and add it in the comments section below. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog (if you have one), Facebook, or Twitter, and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint the image if a link is provided back to this post)
I have recently discovered a stash of copies of my first book on lectio divina (published by Paulist Press, written with Sister Lucy) and so I will be sending out free signed copies to the first 25 people to share their poems (will be mailed out the week of May 7th). When you submit your poem, please also email me directly with your mailing address (I’ll send confirmation I received it, but I won’t be chasing down folks for their addesses). This is my way of saying thank you for participating in the Abbey community.
This photo is of one of the doors to Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. I love this found mandala, because for me, I could see the clear boundary of the center where the knocker for the door was and where you request entry to the inner sanctum, and then the extension outward from there of the design which had a reaching quality to me and sense of how our service to others extends out into the world. We are called to dance on life’s edges, stretching the boundaries and horizon. I felt the beautiful tension between the center and the edges and how we are called to both – each one nourishes the other.
I invite you to ponder this image and see what it evokes in your heart. Let that be a starting point for your poem writing. Then scroll down to the comments section and share it here with our Abbey community.
54 Responses
DOOR
Travel around a
Ring of possibilities,
Take the plunge, go in!
A resounding YES to “Take the plunge, go in!”, Meredith.
The Center
darkened by time
and neglect
the edges are
murky, dingy,
dirty.
the center where
many hands have
touched, wiped,
polished with each
entry into the
inner
sanctum
shines.
But.
the margins long
for a loving touch
a beautiful caress
being seen as the
filigree that
swoops and swirls
reaching for
the center
always held
back by the
guardian
of the door of
righteousness.
And.
you are seen.
wind whistles
through the keyhole
calling the center
to reach outward
gathering the
beloved in her
arms and opening
doors.
Not to enter.
To exit.
So often I’ve come to the door seeking sanctuary,
a place to shut out the silence
of pain;
and to forget
the utter loneliness
Of being human
and other.
“Knock and it shall be opened.”
But the door is locked
By some unseen part of my past —
Unmet needs
Hurts unhealed
Unloved lesions left by
Hearts unfeeling.
Does it really matter?
The door remains shut
Dark, cold,
And silent.
Outside, unimpeded,
The rain berates my shivering skin.
If only another would raise
The unyielding iron
And gain access;
Or shout for the inside to open up.
I’ve screamed until my lungs bled
And the chords shattered on shards
Of despair.
But only my pain thunders
back to me
As tears streak the windows.
In praise of Mistress Bradstreet
who danced on the world’s periphery,
crossing the ocean in 1630.
She bore and reared eight children
on the margins of New England.
Anne live a cutting edge life:
faithful Puritan
prudent if silent-for-a-time poet.
History records her knocking on, knocking down, opening doors.
There is nothing left to fear.
Coraggio!
Corragio!
Lion hearted
Woman
Corragio!
On your
Green
Sharp
Edges.
Corragio!
Up against
Stony
Steely
Walls.
Corragio,
You rise
Corragio,
You fall
Down,
Holy, holy
Ground.
O
Savage
Heart!
O
Sweet
Heart!
O
Dear One,
My Love!
All is
Threshold
All is
Door
All is
Holy, holy holy-
More.
The lion in the center
(is it Aslan?)
holds the ring.
Do you push,
or pull
or just hold on…
as the door opens
to greater mystery?
From the outer edge
Driving to the inner core.
There you can find rest.
O Pilot of my Passions,
steer me on a steady course.
Draw me through the inner deeps
to the core where you dwell.
Iron Lion
from a door into Notre Dame Cathedral
Nothing between my teeth for centuries
but this iron ring, the invitation
I don’t speak, but offer.
All you need
do is lift
and drop it.
All you need
is a prayer
between your teeth
and feet
to enter.